


Paradox

by TainaPrincess1493



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 10:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TainaPrincess1493/pseuds/TainaPrincess1493
Summary: The stones needed to be returned to the exact moment they were taken from. That’s two stones in one timeline, that’s a paradox, right?





	Paradox

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Everything except the fix it belongs to Marvel and Disney. The definition of a paradox belongs to my physics book.
> 
> Many, many thanks to the amazing Salacious for being kind enough to suffer through my terrible ranting and my really bad drafts. I owe you.

A causal loop is a paradox of time travel that occurs when a future event is the cause of a past event, which in turn is the cause of the future event. Both events then exist in spacetime, but their origin cannot be determined. Steve had read this in some science book he’d burrowed from Tony’s lab one night when his insomnia was particularly bad. And it’s what kept running through his mind ever since he’d chosen to return the stones to the points in time when they’d been taken. Bruce was supposed to do it, but without Tony around to manipulate the portal the good doctor had to take his place.

Sam and Bucky had volunteered to take the stones back, as had Clint, but Steve knew this was his responsibility. It was also his last chance. The chance to make good on a promise and to steal a part of his life back. He tugged his uniform into place, his hands moving on autopilot. The room he was in brought back too many memories. The compound had been destroyed, but Steve, unlike the others, hadn’t moved into the tower. He had a place, one that the rest of them didn’t know about. A place that was now far too big for just him, but that he couldn’t share with anyone save her. The bedroom felt stifling in its emptiness, the sound of the quiet too loud to his ears. The scent of her was everywhere but the noise and awareness his body associated with her presence was missing.

He swallowed hard as he grabbed the keys from his dresser, the pointe shoes keychain sparkling in the light that streamed in from the windows. He tightened his fist until he was sure the keychain would leave an imprint on his skin; if he couldn’t have her, at least he’d have this, a last piece of his Russian ballerina. He left the room, even if that was harder to do than it had ever been before. Closing that door had felt like closing his heart to the memories they’d made, to the life experiences they’d shared. Walking through the hallway he tried not to look at the walls, to not see the pictures that hung there, perfect moments of stolen happiness frozen in time.

He lost the battle when he got to the end of the hallway that led him to the living room, and he stopped, staring at a picture in a simple metal frame. Her smiling face jumped out at him, her eyes and hair shinning in the summer sun, and he felt tears sting his eyes. He could remember every detail of that day, could still hear her soft protests as he and Clint made her pose for a picture. For all her protesting, she’d relented in the end, because that’s who she was, she always wanted to please her friends, to help them and be there for them when they needed it. Steve sighed, the spot in his heart that undoubtedly belonged to her aching like a bleeding, open wound. He looked back at the hallway, spying some other frames, this wasn’t what he’d meant when he’d said whatever it takes.

His phone ringing startled him out of his thoughts, it was a text. A simple text from Bruce saying that he was ready. Steve stuffed his phone back in his pocket barely bothering to send a reply before he fixed his eyes back on the image of her smiling face. His resolve was hardened, and yet his hand was gentle when he lifted it to touch the glass that protected her picture, “Whatever it takes,” he whispers and then walks away not daring to stop for fear of never leaving.

Arriving back at the ruins of the compound doesn’t take long, and he moves quickly toward the wooded area overlooking the lake where he knows his teammates and friends are waiting. As he nears them, his uniform feels tighter, heavier, like the burden of what he’s about to do is just now settling over his shoulders. He flexes his hand, and not for the first time feels a pang of sadness when the slender fingers he expects to feel aren’t tangling themselves with his own. His eyes meet Clint’s and he has to look away because with that one gaze he knows the other man can read him like an open book. The soldier can’t stand to see the sympathy in the archer’s eyes, not when it’s mixed with a guilt he shouldn’t feel.

He spares a glance at Bruce as he stands by the equipment table, giving everything one last check, and he moves over to Sam and James. The two men had struck an odd camaraderie after the battle of Wakanda, and Steve was glad to see it. He doesn’t talk, just listens to the banter the other two have going on, this is only so they don’t betray how uncertain they are over what he’s about to do. Traveling the quantum realm hadn’t been easy the first time, but then they’d had Tony. If something goes wrong now, Steve could very well find himself stuck in a different time with no way home. Although, he muses, his home had been torn from him the moment they first stood back on that platform and she’d been missing, his home had been cruelly ripped from him the moment he’d understood the reason for the grief etched on Clint’s features.

When the time comes to say his goodbyes, they’re brief, he’ll be back in a minute, that’s all he’s willing to think about even when the thought sends a sharp pain through him. He moves over to Clint, the only goodbye that he knows has to be a bit longer, because the man looks like he’s about to fall over from the overwhelming guilt.

“I’m sorry, it should have been me.”

Steve shakes his head, watching out of the corner of his eye as the others shift to give them some semblance of privacy, “We both know she wouldn’t have let that happen. This was Natasha Romanoff we were talking about. She would face off gods for you, in fact she already has.”

Clint chuckles dryly, “She’d do it for you too. Tasha, she always said that love was for children, but she loved harder and more fully than any of us. I really did try, but she always had to have the last say.”

“And don’t I know it. I’ll bring her back, Clint. One way or the other. And if it doesn’t work this time, then I’ll try again. But I’m not leaving her alone.”

Clint gives him a nod, and a brotherly hug, “She loved you, Rogers. Even if she didn’t say it.”

Steve gives him a half smile, one that usually comes out only around Natasha or when he’s thinking about her, “I knew. And she knew how I felt.”

He steps back and moves over to Sam and Bucky for one last goodbye, keeps it light, and teasing, this isn’t the moment to worry them. Then he shoulders Mjölnir and climbs onto the platform, activating the suit and before he knows it the uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed through time surrounds him.

It’s logical that he visits New York first, two stones need to be returned, and a sorceress needs to be appeased. His encounter with her is disconcerting, but he pushes it from his mind as he prepares to make good on a promised dance from long ago. Steve knows it’s probably not fair of him to prance into her life this way, but he needs closure, maybe they both do, and he hopes this will give them that.

Sneaking around Camp Lehigh is slightly more complicated this time, but he still manages. He knew he would, having spent 8 years with one of the world’s best spies was bound to leave its mark. He puts the Tesseract back in its shiny metal prison, and then sneaks around until he arrives back at her office. There he waits, and his patience is rewarded when the door opens and she walks in.

“Peggy,” he whispers, and hopes that she won’t scream and alert the others to his presence.

She doesn’t, of course she doesn’t, she’s the director of SHIELD and not even the voice of her long lost flame will shake her. But she does clench the files in her hands tighter as she turns to face him.

“Who are you?” She asks, her voice carries a hard edge that says he’s about one wrong word away from a world of trouble.

“I’m exactly who you think I am.”

“How?” She’s still standing rigidly by her desk, the files in her hands still held in front of her as if they could offer her some protection.

He chuckles mirthlessly, “That’s a loaded question, and I can’t tell you everything. I can say though, I’m not the me from your time.”

She swallows and he watches her as she slowly comes to the realizations that he needed her to get to. “Ok, how far into the future then?”

“About 80 years, give or take a few months,” and he doesn’t know how he sounds so nonchalant about it, but he guesses it’s more of her influence.

Peggy staggers a bit against her desk, “What are you doing here?”

“We borrowed something from the past, and now I’m just making good on a promise.”

She gives him a soft smile, “Seems you’ve gotten better at that, huh?”

“I deserve that.”

“No, you don’t. I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know what to say. It’s not that I’m not glad to see you, but you aren’t here to stay, and I have a life, a family I can’t leave or throw aside.”

“I know. You need to live your life, but I thought I owed you a dance. And a part of me, a big part, hates that I haven’t ever made good on that.”

Her smile appears once more, this one is brilliant and reaches her eyes, “I guess one dance couldn’t hurt.”

They leave the base, and Steve has to brace himself against the memories that assault his mind. The last time he’d left Camp Lehigh with a woman, he’d been carrying her unconscious body and they’d both been fleeing HYDRA. Peggy has to notice the way his hands clench because she taps one of his fists, “Who is she?”

He opens his mouth to deny it, but then realizes he’s tired of denying it, tired of not speaking her name, “Natasha, and she’s... she was my everything.”

Peggy doesn’t wince, which just strengthens Steve knowledge of her having moved on, “What happened?”

“I waited too long again.”

She chuckles a little dryly, “You’re kind of an expert at that.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, “Guess some things don’t change.”

“Maybe you can change them. I know you, Steven Rogers, you have another purpose in this mission.”

“Do you think...”

“I don’t,” she cuts him off. “If you have the chance to fight for your happiness, to fight for your life, do it. Any woman who can capture your attention so fully has to be wonderful.”

“To be honest she’s a bit of a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“So exactly your type then?” She asks, laughter clear in her tone.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

Peggy slows the car as she nears a quaint little house with a lovely porch, the kind of house Steve could have seen himself living in after the war. But now, now he can’t quite visualize that dream, not without seeing a stunning redhead with dazzling green eyes. They exit the car and walk inside the house, Steve pausing to look at the home Peggy has built for herself. She smiles at him from next to the fireplace, and lets him take it in.

“Are you happy?” He asks seriously, he wants the confirmation to come from this Peggy even though he’d heard it from the future one.

She smiles softly, “I am. It took a while at the start. It was hard to move on, but he’s a good man, patient. Has a good heart, and he’s become my home.”

Steve smiles, happy with her reassurance, “So how about that dance?”

Peggy chuckles, but starts the record player. They dance to a slow gentle tune, long forgotten or ignored in the modern time Steve comes from. And ironically Steve finds he misses that incredibly modern time in which he’d originally felt so out of place. As they dance, he can’t help but wish it were a different person in his arms.

She senses it because she’s Peggy Carter and very few things can escape her notice, “You miss her.”

Steve swallows but he’s honest, “I do. She... it was only supposed to take a minute.”

Peggy squeezes his hand, and she stops swaying, “Steve, you’ve made good on your promise to me. You should go. She’s waiting for you.”

“I still have a few more stops to make before I go there. I... I can’t part with her so quickly. And even if she is gone, having the stone... it feels like she’s here with me.”

Peggy smiles sadly at him, “I hope you get her back, Steve. The universe owes you this time around.”

He scoffs, but steps back, “It was good to see you, Agent Carter.”

She smiles at the goodbye and squeezes his fingers, “It was good to see you too, Captain.”

He kisses the back of her hand before releasing her hand and activating the quantum device.

He’d been dreading this moment. All the other stones had been easy, all the other stones he’d been glad to return. But not this one. Returning this stone felt final. He hoped that by some miracle returning it would mean he could get her back, but he wasn’t sure. He timed his arrival to be just after Clint and Natasha had first made it to the planet. Right now, at this time, there were in effect two soul stones, and it was like the gem itself knew it. The stone in the case he carried pulsed hard enough to be felt through the metal it was encased in.

It hadn’t been this way with the others, even though he’d arrived while the stones themselves still existed in their respective timelines. This was the only gem that seemed to react to the momentary imbalance, and he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing. He walked toward the mountain that Clint had described in detail, his enhanced sight could just make out the forms of the archer and Natasha high above standing with their weapons drawn. He could only guess that they’d already encountered the Red Skull. He hurried up the steep slope, he knew he had to arrive at the top just as the sacrifice was made. Clint couldn’t see him up there, and he couldn’t see her sacrifice herself because he knew he would stop it, and mess up the timeline worse than it already was.

He walked fast, putting one foot in front of the other despite how much he didn’t want to. There was a chance, a small chance that returning this stone could mean he’d get her back. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. The rule was a soul for a soul, as Clint had told him through the tears that fell unchecked from the other man’s eyes. Well the stone pulsed as if it were alive, as if the gem itself had a soul, and maybe, just maybe giving it back would please death and the universe enough that he’d get her back. As he climbed, he couldn’t help but think back on their time together. From the first hello to their last goodbye, and everything in between, Natasha had been the light he hadn’t realized he’d needed.

At first they’d barely gotten along, despite how well they fought together, but little by little they learned how to relate to one another, learned how to get along. She was there for him during his darkest moments, and he didn’t know if he could face a world without her in it, and still be the man she had known. Although he would try, for her. If he couldn’t get her back, if the universe were that cruel, he would still try his best to be who she believed he was.

He reached the top just as one of Clint’s favorite arrows exploded and he knew from what the archer had told him that Nat was about to make the sacrifice play. He clenched his fist harder on the handle of the case as he watched from a distance how Clint flung himself from the top, only for Natasha to fling herself right after him. He had to fight to stay rooted to his spot, to stay quiet, he had to swallow down on the scream that wanted to escape his throat. He punched the outcropping of rock next to him when his enhanced hearing allowed him to hear her begging with Hawkeye to let her go, assuring him it would be ok. Tears streamed unchecked down his face when he heard his friend scream no, and he knew she’d let go. He knew she was falling to her death, falling and leaving him alone with an empty promise ringing in his ears.

“See you in a minute,” the wind seemed to whisper around him, her voice a beautiful, haunting memory. And he walked forward as the wind picked up, he moved forward even when two bright lights exploded from the bottom of the cliff and soared upwards. And just as they were about to reach the dark clouds above, he closed his gloved hand around the glowing stone.

“It’ll be ok,” her voice whispered and the gem pulsed in synch with the voice. With a muffled sob, he let soul stone fall from his hand and he closed his eyes against the winds that blew even harder than before. The bright light that exploded was enough to bother him even with his eyes closed, and he was sure he’d heard someone sigh as if in relief at the stone being returned before he found himself floating in a lake, looking up at a canopy of clouds.

He didn’t know what he’d expected, but he knew what he wished, although that didn’t seem likely since he could sense he was alone. However, he could also sense a warmth that he hadn’t felt since he’d let her go on that platform. He could swear her spirit was around him, could swear her voice was ringing in his ears, but he was alone. And more tears slipped down his cheeks, the universe really was that cruel.

He clenched his fist, maybe the universe wouldn’t give her back, but he could get her body back if nothing else. And if it meant climbing that bloody mountain again, he’d do it. He started moving forward, but as he placed one booted foot on the beginning of the path, the Skull appeared. If Steve didn’t know any better he’d say Schmidt looked pained, and sorry for him.

“Steven, son of Sarah, I am afraid that what you seek is not up there.”

“What do you mean?”

“The physical body of those who sacrifice themselves for the stone do not remain at the altar. Death is an unforgiving mistress, Captain.”

“I gave it back.”

“Yes. You are a most peculiar mortal. Although perhaps, you realize how useless a stone can be, when the soul that yours yearns for is not by your side,” the Skull floats quietly for a moment, as if listening to a voice Steve could not hear. “Go home, what you seek is no longer here. Only death and sorrow inhabit this planet, and you do not belong here.”

Steve swallows hard and blinks back a fresh wave of tears, but he nods, “I thought...”

“I know what it is that you thought. Who knows, maybe that which you wish could come true. No one has ever returned the stone willingly. Perhaps death might still be kind to you in another way. But for now, Captain, you must go.”

Steve feels like all of the fight has been knocked out of him, and he nods, moving away from the edge of the mountain without turning his back on the Red Skull. Once he’s a couple of paces away he sets up the quantum device on his hand, “It’s ok...” he hears her whisper again and he looks around desperately for her, but sees nothing and then he is whisked away into the quantum realm.

He touches back on the platform and moves off, even as his heart continues to crumble. Even as his heart wants to keep him up there, wants him to shout at Bruce to turn the device back on and to help him get back to Vormir. Steve moves, ignoring the tears still staining his cheeks, ignoring the sad looks that Sam and Bucky keep sending his way. He has one destination, one person he needs to talk to, and Clint moves closer as if sensing that he isn’t capable of moving too far away from the machine.

Clint reaches him and clasps a strong hand on his shoulder, and he has to swallow a couple of times before he can make his voice work, “I couldn’t...” his sentence gets interrupted by the machine behind them gearing back to life.

They all look wildly at Bruce, but the scientist looks as bewildered as the rest of them. They all prepare for the worst, they ready themselves to fight whatever comes hurtling out of that portal, but what happens isn’t something any of them had been expecting.

The body that lands on the platform is clad in a black, skintight bulletproof tac suit that is revealed once the quantum suit disappears from around her form. Her red blonde hair is in a braid, and Steve can see her trembling from where he’s standing dumbfounded.

“Steve,” she whispers, and his name snaps him out of his stupor. He runs for the platform and reaches her as her knees buckle underneath her weight.

“Nat, what, how?” He questions even as he cradles her in his arms.

“You returned them,” she says simply.

“But I thought... the Red Skull, he said death had accepted the sacrifice.”

“It did,” she trembles a little more noticeably, as if talking is sapping more and more of her strength, “but you returned the stone just as I hit the bottom. You created a paradox, or so the Red Skull explained.”

“But... he... the Skull told me I had to go. I... God, Nat, I left you there.”

She smiles softly, “You didn’t. It took me a bit to regain consciousness, to be aware. He was there, waiting. To explain. I guess whoever he was in your past, he’s no longer that. Now his only purpose is to serve the stone.”

The others had apparently run out of patience because they were suddenly swarming them on the platform. Clint was the first to reach them, and he flung himself at them, hugging both his Captain and his redheaded best friend. The archer was mumbling in Russian, begging Natasha’s forgiveness and calling her stupid and reckless all in one breath.

He finally pulls back enough to look her dead in the eyes, “Never do that again.”

Natasha smiles gently at her oldest friend, “Don’t give me a reason to do it again then.”

Clint glares at her weakly, “I won’t.”

Sam is next and he hugs her gently, mindful of how tired she seems, “It’s good to have you back.”

“Good to be back, Wilson. You’ve been keeping Steve in line?”

“I’ve tried, but you know how reckless his ass can be.”

Natasha laughs softly, both at his answer and at the indignant sound Steve lets out. Her reunion with Bucky and Bruce isn’t less heartfelt, but it’s less boisterous, she’s more tired, and they can all tell that whatever the stone had done to her had taken its toll.

“You should rest,” Sam says quietly, giving Steve a pointed look.

The super soldier agrees with his friend, and stands with her still cradled in his arms, “I’ll get her home.” If the others had something to say about that, they didn’t get a chance to because the soldier walked away with his precious bundle.

Resting in the car had managed to get enough of Natasha’s strength back that she refused to let Steve carry her up to their door. The spy instead walked just a little behind the soldier, her hand never leaving his. They reach their door quickly enough, and Steve gets the key from his pocket. He pretends he doesn’t hear her gasp when spying the keychain, ignoring the way her hand tightens just a little on his. His hand pauses once he’s inserted the key into the lock, he trembles a little too much for his liking.

“Steve…” she whispers from behind him.

“I’m scared,” he confesses in a small voice. “I’m scared that once I open this door you’ll disappear. I’m scared this is just some cruel trick of the universe and that once I open the door I’ll be back on Vormir without you.”

He feels her move, her hand slipping from his, but her arms encircle him from behind, her face pressed against his back. “I’m here,” she whispers, “I’m really here Steve.”

One of her hands leaves its spot on his waist and covers his own still on the key, and together they turn it, opening the door to the place that had been their sanctuary for so long. The apartment looked the same as it always did, it had been their escape when staying at the empty facility had been too much to deal with. The layout was open, inviting and had as much old fashioned things as it did high tech ones, this had been from where Natasha had kept an eye on the world when she had to be away from their HQ, but it was also their home and it showed. Steve watched as she moved away from him, watched her fingers trail softly over the back of their couch.

“You’ve been staying here,” it wasn’t a question.

“I have. The facility was destroyed when Thanos attacked, and the Tower brought back a different kind of baggage.”

Natasha nodded and moved through the apartment until she reached the kitchen, spying the bit of mess that was there, “Peanut butter?” She questioned with a smile.

“Felt like it kept you close.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anymore, just looked at him and at the place were they had spent time away from their crazy lives. Steve hated the sudden awkwardness between them, but he couldn’t help it. A part of him was still waiting for her to disappear.

“I’m tired,” she whispered, and she looked it.

Steve grabbed her hand and pulled her into their room, helping her remove her uniform before letting her take her bath. She came out wearing the shirt he’d left on the vanity for her and she softly padded over to the bed beside him. She crawled in, and sighed in relief when his arms closed around her.

“Sleep, Nat. We’ll talk later.”

She nodded in the darkness of the room and before long her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. Steve watched her for a long time, his eyes tracing every feature of her face, his subconscious still too keyed up for sleep, but her gentle breathing and her warmth soon pulled him under.

Steve woke what felt like hours later, his head pounded from just how hard he’d slept, but something kept trying to drag him back into slumber. He stretched only to bolt upright in bed when his arms brushed against cold sheets. He’s wide awake now, trying and failing to spot the smallest bit of evidence that she was back. Her tac suit which he’d left pooled on the floor was missing, her side of the bed was empty, and not a single sound echoed throughout the apartment. The warm rays of the morning sun filtered in through the curtains, but his heart was stuck on the panic he was feeling.

He got up and moved almost blindly from the room. He was biting his lip hard trying to ignore the sense of dread that was rising up inside of him. “Nat,” he called her name, but only silence greeted him back.

Fear closed its cold fist around his heart, and a sob almost ripped itself from his throat. Then the sound of keys fixed his attention to the front door, and suddenly there she was. Dressed in jeans and the shirt he’d lent her the night before.

“Tasha,” the nickname escapes his lips before he can stop it, and he has to look pitiful because she drops the bags she’d been carrying and hurries over to him.

“Steve,” she whispers her arms closing around his form, and a part of him registers that he’s not breathing right. “Soldier,” her voice commands, “eyes on me.” He does as she asks, but he still can’t breathe, “Steve, please take a deep breath for me, just concentrate on my voice.”

Slowly he does as she asks, and he feels his racing heart begin to settle, but his trembling is so bad that he ends up sprawling them both on the kitchen floor. Natasha stays with him, cradling his head to her chest, running her hands softly through his blond hair.

Minutes or hours pass, he isn’t sure, but finally the trembling passes and he’s ok again. He swallows and finally finds his voice, “You were gone.” His voice is hoarse, desperate and he doesn’t care. “I woke up and you weren’t there, Natasha.”

“I’m sorry, soldier. There was nothing in the kitchen except peanut butter. I didn’t think… I should have… I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have panicked.”

“You had every right to panic. Time didn’t pass for me, Steve. One second I was falling from the edge, and the next I was awake. But it wasn’t like that for you.”

His arms tighten around her, “These have been the longest weeks of my life, Natasha. You said a minute and you didn’t come back. And I understood why you did it, but it hurt. You are my home, Nat. You, not the facility, not the Tower, not even this apartment, but you, and suddenly you weren’t there anymore. What was I supposed to do, Nat?”

A tear slips down her face, “You would have moved on, Steve.”

“No I wouldn’t have. I’ve already had to move on so many times. I was ready to give up. Only the thought of getting everyone back like you wanted kept me moving. Only the thought of you helped me get back up time and again after Thanos beat me to the ground. I can’t lose you, Tasha. Not again. Not ever, because while I might survive it, while I might be able to live in a world where you don’t exist, I don’t want to do it. And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I never said it before, but I love you Natasha Romanoff even when you’re driving me insane, I love you.”

Natasha smiles at him through her tears, as she brushes his own from his cheeks, “I love you too, soldier. And that was all I was thinking about as I fell. I love you, and that’s never going to change. I’m sorry, I said a minute and then broke my promise, but I had to save Clint.”

“I know,” he smiled sadly. “I know you had to do it. It’s who you are, but please just tell me you didn’t do it because you thought you somehow deserved to die more than him. Because that’s not true, Natasha.”

“You know what I’ve done, Steve.”

“Yeah, I know,” he interrupts, “But that was all in your past, and you’ve more than made up for it. You’ve more than wiped your ledger clean of any blood. And if I have to spend the rest of my life repeating it for you to believe it, I will. Just don’t do this again, please.”  
“I can’t promise that, Steve. Anymore than you can promise to stop being your overprotective self. What I can promise is that I’ll spend the rest of my life with you, however long or short it is. And I hope that that’s enough.”

Steve kisses her softly, their lips meeting for the first time in too long. The moment is tender and sweet even if their lips taste like salt because of the tears. “It’ll never be enough. But I’ll take it, and I promise to do the same, Nat. However little or however much of my life I still got left, I promise to spend it with you.”

They seal their promise with another kiss. And as they stay there, a heap on the floor, the soldier and the spy feel ready to face whatever will come at them so long as they have the other by their side.

**Author's Note:**

> I still can’t accept that Nat is dead. So I got another hit of inspiration. I don’t know if it’s any good or if it even makes sense, but it is what is. Drop me a review with your thoughts. English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes I didn't notice. I promise this is my last attempt at fixing Endgame.


End file.
